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bridge of his nose.
    Charley started to speak but stopped as his gaze returned to hers.
    “He doesn’t have a date, and we kinda planned to crash it together, ’til … well … you agreed to go with me.”
    “Ah, gotcha.” Hands on his hips, she turned him around to push him forward. Before she could let go, she laid her head against his back, firm and smooth under her cheek. “Let me see what I can do.”

4
    The dining room table could hold fifteen with all its leaves. Lily set it for six. A buffet, hutch, sideboard, mirror and wood-back chairs—custom designed and carved by James—lined the outer edges of Venetian plaster walls. Lily called it a room fit for a king. Both Cael’s and Charley’s artwork adorned the space, but Lily’s design, the reds mixed with golds and browns, created the space.
    Wyatt stopped a foot from the entry. “Whoa,” he said.
    “You like it?” Lily’s grin beamed through the room like sunlight through a window.
    Wyatt stood in front of a canvas and traced his finger in the air along the single-line silhouette of a woman’s form. “He’s a good artist.” His hand rested midair at the signature.
    Charley stole a glance at James, who smirked back at her.
    “She. Charley is a she,” James said.
    “That’s cool,” Wyatt said.
    James scratched the side of his nose, hiding the smile aimed Charley’s way behid his hand.
    Lily stood at the head of the table, drumming fingers along the inlay of her chair. “Shall we eat, then?”
    They all nodded.
    “Good. I have to explain some things.” She moved to the side, pulling Stuart along with her.
    Charley stood with Wyatt to one side, James and Cael at the ends.
    Only Lily would create a meal that required direction. She pointed, gestured and maneuvered until even Charley’s head spun with the instruction on sauces, the difference in the reds and greens, and which vegetables worked best with the different flavors. Why Lily opted to make four different pastas in various hues or marry them with separate sides, Charley would never know or question.
    Once everyone settled with their unique plates of food, Charley prepped for the question. “So, Leena.” Charley bit into a morsel of decadent chicken.
    Lily popped a cherry tomato into her mouth. “Hmmm?”
    “There’s a dance coming up at the end of the week.” Charley picked from between grapes and blueberries, her fingers at play over the bumps and colors.
    “Mmm, hmm.” Lily’s murmur came from a full mouth.
    Charley swirled pasta onto her silver fork, dipped it into both of her green and red sauces which she guessed to be avocado and roasted red pepper. “Since Wyatt, Stuart and I are going, we thought you might want to join us.”
    Lily’s eyes alighted with excitement—a sucker for a party. “Cool!”
    Cael shifted in his chair. Stuart’s jaw dropped open, his own utensil of pasta held ready at his lips.
    Lily hesitated before she bobbed her head forward and chewed longer than necessary. “We’ll have to go dress shopping.” She pointed at Charley with another red tomato between her fingertips. “You know that gown shop on first, downtown? I soooooo want to go there.”
    Code for you’re going to pay .
    Charley shifted her gaze toward James and Cael. Their worried expressions mirrored each other—one a frown, one a grimace.
    Lily hadn’t been home the day she’d told them about the dance. They’d both stormed through the house; anger bellowing through the halls. Their response had been worse than when she’d registered at West as Mira, a foreign exchange student from New Zealand. Lily had gotten a kick out of the planned ruse.
    ‘He still wouldn’t be eighteen,’ James had said once and again. ‘He can’t make that kind of decision until he’s an adult,’ Cael repeated. Charley countered that she would walk away if and when she agreed with them.
    It had taken her three months to convince James and another two to get Cael’s buy-in, not that she needed